


Lord of The Rings Femslash Ficlets, Collected

by Rubynye



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Epistolary, F/F, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-18
Updated: 2010-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-06 10:17:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five assorted femslash ficlets about hobbitlasses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pervinca's invitation

**Author's Note:**

> This one is particularly for [](http://danachan.livejournal.com/profile)[**danachan**](http://danachan.livejournal.com/), with all my love; it comes with an Author's Note to explain a few things, for which I apologize, because if I'd managed everything I'd wanted to it wouldn't need it.

Return address: Great Smials, Tuckborough, West Farthing  
Delivery address: Brandy Hall, Bucklebury, Buckland

18 Thrimidge, 1422

My dearest Miss Alyssum Brandybuck,

I told you I would write you, and so I am. A month gone already, and I'm still not quite recovered from the delightful shock of seeing you at Meriadoc and Estella's wedding. You are as lovely as ever, and though the event was cheerful as expected -- Took though I am, I must grant that Brandy Hall throws quite the party -- spending my evening in your company made the revels all the brighter.

There you go, Alyssum, if you must needs show anyone this letter, there's the first page, and with the last it'll make a good decoy. This page and the next few are for your bright eyes alone.

How do the married couple, newly installed at Brandy Hall? Estella never struck me as one who wished to be mistress of a great hall, and trust me, being Pearl and Pippin's sister, I know the sort who does. Like as not that very lack of striving commended her to Merry, who has so great of a position he eagerly sets it by every chance he gets. If I were Uncle Sarad I might've just kept Beri on as Heir and left Merry to continue being Captain Merry the Lordly, riding about righting wrongs. Not that I'm Uncle Sarad, or in a position to advise.

If you speak with Estella -- and my hope is that you do -- give her my love, and tell her to write me, not least about that tall Jewel of Long Cleeve my brother ever speaks of. Don't tell her this next, for it would only pain her, but I hope she speaks to you of those I know she missed on her wedding day, of that Chubb-Took lad and your second cousin Rosemary. I hope you speak on them, especially Rosemary, for your sake as well. I still remember our talk by candlelight, ~~and that's all I'll write on it, for I wouldn't pain you for all the four farthings~~.

After I wrote that, I thought better, and I hope you'll forgive me for not recopying the sheet. I remember your teasing words, too, that I was as much a terror of lasses as my brother, that he wished to tumble every lass he saw while I kept trying to entice them to run off with me. I've rarely had a better compliment. So, with my reputation flagrant before me, may I invite you for a visit? If you would, we'll drive out together to Michel Delving, and bring flowers to Rosemary; you have every right to that, and more. If you could not bear it, this is the last I'll say on it.

Either way, come be merry in Great Smials with me. I'll throw a dance in your honor, and bring down the great books of maps to show you the places Merry and Pippin have talked of, and tell you all I've heard of the ruined town on Lake Evendim called Annuminas. Ev will be deliberately charming, and Nell will appreciate your company; Pippin stole her husband for a lieutenant and bore him off to the Borders, and most of the fluffheaded fools here are too hidebound to appreciate how her bow helped keep Great Smials unplundered and free. I think the travel will agree with you, so come see me, Alyssum. I'd like very much to see you, and you shall not sleep alone.

Let me give you a proper last page now, my sweet, where I request the pleasure of your company in good respectable terms. After all, you have my true invitation above.

I would greatly enjoy having your company brighten my days again. May I ask you to come visit Great Smials, Miss Brandybuck? My husband and my father the Thain approve of you, and I believe you would enjoy your time here. Please write back and let me know.

Yours most sincerely,

Mistress Pervinca Took

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you've been reading my journal for awhile you know who Pervinca Took is; she's one of Pippin Took's sisters off the Family Trees in the back of editions of LOTR, and several writers have fleshed her out into a lovely wild personality.
> 
> Alyssum Brandybuck is 's Original Character; Rosemary Brandybuck is mine. I wrote about Rosemary in [this depressing little story](http://rubynye.livejournal.com/7818.html%20). And Davenard "Davy" Chubb-Took? He's an OC of mine, so far showing up only in discussions-within-stories [here](http://rubynye.livejournal.com/26326.html) and [here](http://rubynye.livejournal.com/128139.html), but I hope one day to write his story. 
> 
> So yeah, this was a Personal Rabbit Hole sort of fic. Some would definetely deem it Mary-Sue infested. But I've always wondered what life was like in the Shire, and about the hobbits we *don''t* follow through LOTR.


	2. Estella/Rosemary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prequel to "Rosemary, For Remembrance"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this ficlet, I completely, completely flunk the [ Bechdel Test](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dykes_To_Watch_Out_For#Contributions_to_popular_culture) to such an extent that I thought I should admit it right up front. Even so, I hope it's worth reading, and that my reasons are apparent.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day. This is for the day, even though not set on it, and it's for [](http://danachan.livejournal.com/profile)[**danachan**](http://danachan.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hyel.livejournal.com/profile)[**hyel**](http://hyel.livejournal.com/), as my hobbits ever are.

Cold rain rattled the shutters; cold air streamed across the bed. Estella lay curled in a tight knot in the covers, watching the dimness with cold eyes.

Her door cracked open, admitting a stripe of yellow light. "And you've not even left a blanket for me," Rosemary said, voice easy and sure, and Estella pushed up on her elbows and smiled though she shouldn't've. "Shove over, Stel?"

"Rosemary," Estella murmured, looking up at one of her two favorite Brandybucks, standing there smiling in her nightdress holding a candle, warm light glimmering in her eyes and her hair, shadows deepening the curves of her cheeks and her body. She set her candle down and lifted the covers, wiggling in, and Estella rolled to her.

Even though she shouldn't've. "Should you be here?" she asked, even as Rosemary's arm wound around her.

"Should I not?" Rosemary added the other arm, too, the rest of her only as far away as the thickness of a soft nightdress.

"I'm not the Bolger you're betrothed to." Even so, Estella's head tucked beneath Rosemary's chin, her face against the soft skin of Rosemary's throat. "You're not the Brandybuck I walked out with."

"You could use arms about you," Rosemary replied, implacable and merry, and Estella laughed against her soft throat even as her eyes ached with burgeoning tears. "It's been days since you've smiled."

"Surely not," Estella protested,all the while making herself a liar with her legs tangled through Rosemary's longer ones. "And when--" she said the word stoutly, against all uncertainty "--when Freddy comes by Brandy Hall I'd not have him cross with you."

"Nor should I have him cross, with you, with anyone." Rosemary's brash voice faltered, as they both thought back on Freddy's deep anger, on his determined farewells before he set off to be a Rebel against Pimple and his Men. She took a deep breath, warm and soft in Estella's arms, and set her shoulders so much the way Merry did, and went on. "But I was yours before I was Freddy's, Stel Bolger."

"Rosemary." Filling her hands with the soft flesh of Rosemary's shoulders, Estella squeezed her. Rosemary returned the squeeze, wriggling back into the press of her hands, Estella laughed helplessly at the familiarity of it, and Rosemary laughed with her. "Oh, Rosemary." Even after the laughter, her voice cracked with all the doubts she wouldn't speak.

"He _will_ come back," Rosemary replied, to all Estella didn't say. "One bright day, Freddy will come by, and be glad to see his sister here, and tell us how the struggle goes. And we'll be here to cheer him and his lads, with our spirits high, won't we?"

"You might need to be merry for me," Estella said before she thought; then she heard herself and winced and the tears were so near she could not push them away.

So she pushed her face to Rosemary's linen-covered shoulder, and Rosemary's hands stroked up into Estella's hair, her mouth resting soft and hot against Estella's brow as she murmured, "shhh, shhh." When Estella had sobbed, and breathed, and mastered herself again, Rosemary said jauntily, "I should find it hard going to be Merry, when I haven't a prick and all," and Estella laughed through her tears, Rosemary's soft gown blotting them up till they were gone. "He'll come back too, he will." Rosemary stroked Estella's curls as she spoke. "I know it."

_How?_ Estella wished to ask, even as she wished to let herself be eased. How was Rosemary so sure, when Estella had no sureness at all? She lifted her head to see Rosemary's eyes, which she knew for blue even as they shone dark in the rainy night, and Rosemary reached up to touch her cheek, smiling in the dimness as she had on so many happier nights. "And meantimes," Rosemary went on, "it's rising summer and you're in Brandy Hall, you should be making it count. A half-dozen lads have asked me to make introductions to you."

"Oh, I couldn't." Estella shook her head, trying to laugh. She meant to say something light, to put Rosemary off easy, but what she said was, "These're hard days to love lads."

Rosemary blinked, and Estella could feel her shudder beneath her hands. "Stel?" Rosemary asked softly, stroking Estella's ear between her fingertips. "Tell me true. Do you still blame yourself on Davy?"

Estella shut her eyes tightly, but all she could see behind them was Davy Chubb-Took, his sun-brown hair and bright smile, the limp body on the gallows the Men had set up in Budgeford. She'd had to bring the dark news herself to Davy's kin here, including Rosemary his cousin, who now brushed her fingers across Estella's wet eyelids until she had strength to open them again. "I-- I would tell you no, but you said tell you true." Bolstered by Rosemary's smile, Estella pressed her cheek into Rosemary's hand. "If I'd said I would wed him, would he have gone for a Rebel?"

"Then what's wrong with me?" Rosemary asked archly, "that I said I'd marry Freddy, and he kissed me and went? And what did my stubborn cousin say, before his leaving with Frodo Baggins?"

"He'd something to do." Estella remembered Merry now, his brows drawn down over his storm-grey eyes, pressing her hands in his, telling her he was going away with Pippin and Frodo. His hair had been nearly the same shadowed golden in the lamplight as Rosemary's was in the candle's light now, moving on the pillow as she nodded. "And there's not a thing wrong with you, Rosemary Brandybuck, and you know it," Estella added, to watch Rosemary's smile widen.

Widen, and tilt saucily, bright teeth glinting. "Then why won't you tumble with me?"

"You awful Brandybuck." Estella could not help but grin, though she insisted once more, "My brother---"

"Was my kissing-friend alongside you for years, and all without killing each other." Rosemary's fingers curved along Estella's cheek, as if reminding her of the wanton uses they'd so often been put to.

"When we were tweens," Estella replied, even as she sank down. "When nothing was serious."

"Too much's been too serious," Rosemary said, and her own smile was slipping, her eyes were filled with dark thoughts. "Too much these days." Estella would not have had Rosemary's eyes look so sad for anything, and she leaned down to kiss her; Rosemary kissed her back, soft sweet lips parted warmly, a sleek push of tongue before she smiled over Estella's mouth. "I could try to be Merry, if you'd like," she said in a falsely deep voice.

Estella giggled over Rosemary's mouth, feeling her laughter and Rosemary's warmth. "I should not want you to be anyone else," Estella told her, with all her heart, and kissed her again.


	3. Pervinca Took/Marigold Gamgee, Hard R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lithe was Lithe and life was life...

Lithe was Lithe and life was life, Marigold reminded herself with every gasping breath, even as her wits sagged and melted like candle-wax, even as her back pressed to smooth beechbark and sharp teeth sweetly worried at her ear. Life was daytime, Mari thought desperately, her fingers clutching soft spice-brown hair surely tighter than she ought, a pointed nose and a merry laugh pressed to her burning cheek as she gasped; life was chores, and hobbitsense, baking and washing and garlanding for the Lithe dancing. Life was having Tom Cotton for her sweetheart, while Mari's best lass, his sister Rosie, walked out with her brother Sam; Mari tried to call up her Tom's broad face, his sturdy shoulders, but could only see behind her tight-closed eyes the pert bosom and sweet mouth pressed now to her own. Life was all the sound hard things her Gaffer'd say if he ever knew she'd danced her Lithe in the woods back of the Party Field not with Tom but with tall Miss Vinca, bold and daring as any Took and more, her hand up Mari's skirt, thumbpad steadily pressing and two fingers stroking, her rosebud mouth and wicked little teeth roving Mari's throat, her free hand braced against the great beech that held Mari up to her kisses and love-bites and twisting touch.

So Mari thought, or tried to think, with this Miss Took driving her from her wits, bossy as any gentlehobbit sure of her welcome and charming enough and more to warrant that surety. But she couldn't think, her wits as weak as her knees as Miss Vinca kissed her, mouth tasting of berries and tipsy warmth, like that rich red wine Mr. Frodo once gave her and hazing her mind even more; she surely couldn't move, Miss Vinca wriggling all down her front, soft cloth and hotter skin and softer hair caught between Mari's fingers, and if Mari hadn't clung tight she'd've sunk to the ground. She surely couldn't speak, as Miss Vinca kissed a burning path up Mari's cheek and eye and brow, stroked her that much more insistently, murmured, "so sweet, pretty Mari, won't you peak for me, my lass?"

And what else might Mari do, such words breathed hot over her damp brow, such clever fingers pressing pleasure into her? Her cry fluttered in her throat as she tottered on her toes and shook with the force of it within her, blooming out from Miss Vinca's fingers, echoing through Mari's bones and flesh up her spine into her head, shivering down her legs and feet into the earth till she could almost feel the greenery all round her tingling along. Her legs gave, but Miss Vinca caught her round her waist, laughing brightly in her ear, and bore her back against the steady beech. "Oh, that was lovely," Miss Vinca murmured, easing her fingers from Mari as Mari clung to her and gasped. "You're lovely, Marigold. And I knew you had your wildness. I thought I'd lose my fingers!"

That was a cold dash in all this melting heat, and Mari looked up, unable as yet to shape her voice to beg pardon; seeing her face, Miss Vinca laughed kindly and kissed Mari soundly, hand pressed into her waist. "Oh, my dear, I'd not meant to startle you." Another kiss, tipping Mari's head back on her neck, making her heavy eyelids sink. "You're a wonder, Mari Gamgee." Miss Vinca licked her other hand, the wet one, grin sharpening to naughtiness as Mari watched pop-eyed. "All demure and proper without." She sucked her pointer finger, twining her wicked sweet tongue about it. "All sweet and wild within, tasting of honey and salt." A final suck, pulling her fingers free of her rosy lips with a pop, and she curved that damp hot hand to Mari's cheek. "Tasting as lovely as you look."

Mari's breath was caught, at least as much as could be managed so near to such a flustering lass, but she still had no words, just the Lithe-music of laughter and whimpers and cries all round them and Miss Vinca's soft breath on her brow. She should have shaken her head, blushed and ducked away, but she just stared up, caught in Miss Vinca's night-grey eyes, her enthralling smile. "I'm visiting up at Bag End for the next week, maybe more," Miss Vinca murmured, "and what's been lovely at Lithe shall be even sweeter in a bed, shan't it?"

"Miss Vinca," Mari gasped, and the tall Took lass smiled and leaned warmly on her; her thighs shivered beneath her, and all she could think of was the hand which now cradled her face pressed between them. She would, she gladly would, with Miss Vinca under her hands and all manner of wild thoughts of what they might do tumbling amidst her scattered wits, of kissing Miss Vinca's breasts over and tasting her, of paying her back scream for scream. Mari could think of nothing she'd wish to more. But she mightn't, after her Gaffer's chiding, his hard words to Sam and how he'd boxed Mari's ears for being 'overfamiliar' with Master Merry Brandybuck, how he'd said if he caught them again he'd bar her from Bag End. And there was her warm-eyed strong-handed Tom, and she mightn't, but... but that was life and day and sense, but it was night now and Lithe, Mari's heart beating above Miss Vinca's hand on her back, their bosoms pressing with their breath as Mari gulped and nodded, her arms and hands and wits all filled with Miss Vinca as her tall Took lass tipped her chin up and kissed her again.


	4. Rosie Cotton Gamgee/Pervinca Took Took

"Mistress Rosie," said Pervinca, propped up on pillows, holding out her arms.

"Mistress Vinca Took." Rosie smiled and blinked hard and sat on Pervinca's bed, ignoring the maid's sniff of disapproval, and wrapped her arms around Pervinca as gently as she could. She'd lost weight since the illness settled into her bones, and felt hardly heavier and much frailer than Rosie's ten-year-old daughter.

"Harder," Pervinca murmured, fingers clutching in Rosie's hair. Slowly, Rosie tightened her embrace as much as she dared, and Pervinca sighed, holding her with arms that had once been round and strong. Rosie embraced Pervinca till she felt if she held her any tighter she might shatter, till she worried she pressed the breath out of her, and then eased away a little.

That was when she noticed the pale ribbons in Pervinca's hair. One held a sprig of trimmed holly, shiny green leaves and bright red berries--- and mistletoe bound beside it, shimmering like pearls.

Pervinca's smile lit her pale face. "I'm beneath mistletoe, Rosie Gamgee. So you must kiss me."

Rosie did, and never minded the maid's shocked huff.


	5. Pervinca Took/Rosie Cotton, PG-13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord of the Rings, Rosie/Pervinca, mushrooms

Master Frodo's yearly dinner party brings in many of his relations, from further reaches of the Shire than Great Smials and the Tookbank. It also brings in extra help from Hobbiton and the villages around; so Rosie Cotton took a turn serving at the great table in Bag End on the night that Miss Pervinca Took sat between her prim sister Pearl and Mistress Elecampane Proudfoot.

From the moment Vinca caught sight of Rosie in her crisp blue dress and bright ribbons, she wanted to grab her hands and run till they're far away enough to collapse laughing in a hayrick and fall to kissing; Frodo's a cheerful host, but Pearl and old Miz Proudfoot were both of them dour company, and Pervinca could hardly sit still. Still, the whole of the dinner and all the hobbits of the Shire lay between them, and Rosie was minding the other end of the table and would hardly raise her eyes, till a fortunate chance arose. Down the table, as Pearl pinched Vinca yet again and hissed to her to behave, Melia Goodbody said to Frodo, "what a lovely dish of mixed mushrooms this is! The cepes and white buttons are beautifully balanced."

"The praise belongs to Miss Cotton, whose family recipe this is." Frodo elegantly indicated Rosie, who blushed the most mouthwatering pink and curtseyed. Pervinca saw a couple of the lads noticing Rosie, and Pearl sniffed in her way, so Vinca said, "I simply must have the recipe, cousin! Miss Cotton, can you give it to me?"

Rosie's eyes went wide, and Pearl huffed, and Vinca flared up with fierce gladness. "Don't be foolish, Pervinca," Pearl chided, "you know full well the lass can't write."

"Then I simply must transcribe it." Pervinca popped to her feet. "May I borrow your Miss Cotton a moment?" Frodo smiled at her like he knew precisely what she was about, as she all but ran down the room to catch Rosie's hand and whisk her through the doors.

Through the hall, Rosie running behind her, and into the nearly-empty coat closet, and Pervinca wedged the door with an umbrella and sank her hands in Rosie's hair. "Miss Vinca!" Rosie protested, laughing, and Pervinca kissed her. "I'm serving!" Pervinca kissed her again, harder, sucking on her plump lower lip, and Rosie shivered and clutched her shoulders and kissed back, but she kept protesting. "Mr. Frodo's birthday dinner!" Vinca pressed her front to Rosie's soft curves, wound fingers in her ribbons and kissed her some more, and Rosie made a "mmph!" noise and a "mmm" noise and finally a sigh as her head tilted into Pervinca's hold and she moaned surrender, her mouth melting and sweet as she kissed Pervinca back.


End file.
